


Fate and Control

by gigapause



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F, F/M, Grimdark, Humanstuck, M/M, Magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-18
Updated: 2014-05-31
Packaged: 2018-01-25 15:52:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1654094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gigapause/pseuds/gigapause
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loosely inspired by this post: http://sermna.tumblr.com/post/46965361435/morningthief-sermna-rose-who-lives-on-the<br/>My first fic, so please go easy on me if I mess up the tagging system or anything like that. Oh, and it will get pretty big.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Eridan

You finish packing up your things and throw your messenger bag across your shoulder. It's lighter than usual, since most of your stuff is already in your locker and you are ready to go home. You head out the door and start making your way down the main hall. It's the middle of the afternoon, so there is almost no one around anymore. You hear some voices as you pass by an open classroom door, but the kids inside are no one you have seen before, so you keep walking.  
A wet purple curl is stuck to your forehead. You run your hand through your hair to put back in place.  
You just came from swim practice and didn't really bother to shower. Your soaked hair is still sort of dripping down your face and clothes, but you don't mind. You don't mind the chlorine smell either. You kind of like it.  
You hear the gymnasium doors opening behind you: some kids from the swim team talking loudly as they begin to head out as well. _That_ you do mind, being associated with their kind. The concept of "athleticism" makes you cringe for some reason. It's not who you are at all. It's not the image you want for yourself. Thankfully, it also doesn't seem to be the image people have of you, as a lot of students are visibly surprised when they first hear you are a medalist swimmer for the school. Frankly, you just like swimming.  
The voices in the back completely fill up the empty hall now, which is why you almost walked past the two people talking quietly in a room to your right. You lean against the open door frame.  
-John, Ro. Clocking in some extra hours of study, i see. Commendable. Dedicated pupils is exactly what this school is in need of.  
Rose Lalonde looks at you in the detached yet vaguely condescending way she always does. You wonder if this is a look she reserves for you or if she believes she is above everybody else as well.  
-I so appreciate that, Mr. Ampora. My education is only second to school spirit in my concerns.  
There are books on her lap - There are always books around Rose Lalonde- but whatever the pair is doing, it's definitely not studying. The Egbert boy is intently and unskillfully handling a deck of cards. They are both sitting at what seems to be his desk, crude doodles covering the entire tabletop. Her chair is pulled up to its side.  
She clutches the stack of books to her chest and stands up.  
-Rose, don't look away now! You are gonna miss the grand finale!  
You both look back to the overbite freak, but only just in time to see all the cards flying from his hands in a spectacularly disastrous fashion. It puts a smile on your face, but you don't believe that is the grand finale he was trying for.  
A solitary ace of spades remains in his hand.  
-Uhhh... is this your card?  
-Sorry John, I'm afraid mine is among the ones now stuck in your hair.  
-Hey, worth a shot.  
Lalonde walks to the door, while the boy sweeps the cards into his rucksack and drags her chair back to the desk next to his. She stops right in front of you. You correct your posture, throw your chin back a bit. This girl does not scare you, you think to yourself.  
-Didn't see you at Debate class yesterday, Lalonde. And i hate to mention it, but you look awful. Sick, really. Pale skin, sunken eyes. It's a disconcerting sight, if I must be honest with you.  
-Your point being?  
-I say this out of concern, nothing else. Are you fucking ill or what?  
-Eridan!! - John lets out a gasp. He runs to your side and places a hand on your arm - you can't say the f-word, that's cussing!  
You stare at him, unsure how to respond.  
-I won't tell a teacher this time, but I can't guarantee anything if I hear you being a potty-mouth again. - He takes his hand off and lets a goofy smile open up in his face.  
You feel a wave of annoyance creeping over you.  
-Fuck off, Egbert, I was talking to Rose.  
-Oh, yes. You see John, Eridan has noticed my beauty seems to be waning and has graciously decided to warn me so that i may take the proper corrective measures. God only knows how I would find a husband for myself if I were to become homely. I must thank him most dearly.  
-Hey, look, I don't care if you look pretty or not, - you say, maybe too defensively- you just look sick, that's all I'm saying.  
-God, Eridan, that's kind of rich coming from you. - John reaches for your forehead but you manage to wince away. - You are like sweating in fever, look at you! You are all soaked! Oh my god. Gross.  
-John, I just came from swimming, you--  
-You just ORGASMED in the POOL? That's what gets you off?? You sick fuck!  
You stare at him. His stupidity has got you completely dumbfounded. It's almost hypnotizing. You have no idea if he genuinely believes he is embarrassing you instead of himself here. Maybe he just doesn't care. At this point you realize you have been staring at him with your mouth open for maybe 5 whole seconds and he's got that smile back on his face. You are in fact at a loss for words. You cannot believe this fucking dork is actually getting the better of you.  
You quickly look over to rose. If she thinks any less of you for it, her face doesn't show it. Her look of contempt towards you hasn't changed, for better or worse.  
She quickly turns away and starts heading down the hall.  
John follows her, shaking his head at you in theatrical disbelief.  
You take a few steps in their direction but doesn't follow them further. You know she dislikes you, but you also know you don't ever truly get under her skin. For her to walk away without saying goodbye is new. Not to mention she was kind of short on words today.  
A playful shove snaps you out of it.  
-Come on, you dumb loner, walk out with us this time! You can consider this an order from your swim team captain!  
You look behind you. A smiling Fef and five other swimmers have just caught up with you.  
You try looking for the the two kids ahead of you again, but they have already disappeared around some corner or another.  
You join your best friend and the rest of them as you all head outside. Conversation with Fef's loud and excitable friends is very dull. You can't really help but think about the Lalonde girl. It's not like you care about her, or anything of the sort. But you wonder if you actually fucked up this time.


	2. Rose

You worry for a moment you are walking at a quicker pace than normal but John is giddy and doesn't seem to notice. He does walk faster naturally when he is excited, and his gibing at Eridan seems to have put him in a spirited mood. He now joyfully explains to you some inner workings of prestidigitation and is elaborating on why his magic trick might have gone wrong when you push open the door to the girl's restroom.  
-Oh, damn, I can't follow you in there! I guess I'm gonna go home now. But hey, thanks for staying after class to help me practice, Rose! I might make you my lovely assistant some day, hehe!  
You throw him a faint smile as a way of goodbye and stumble inside the bathroom. You barely manage to lock the stall before falling to your knees and dropping your books to the floor. A thick, pitch black sludge comes out of your mouth.  
It pours out of you unrestrained; you have barely any control over what is happening at all.  
You get a short moment to breathe before a second wave of nausea overcomes you. It registers with you now that this slime feels freezing cold as it comes up your throat. You wipe some of it away from your mouth. You are still lightheaded, but you seem to feel better now.  
As you let go of the toilet, you realize you were clutching it with a lot more strength than necessary. Your hands are shaking. You wish for nothing more to just go home right now, but you take a moment to regain composure before leaving. You take a sit. A few deep breaths help you somewhat.  
You pick up the books laying by your feet and stack them on your lap. All the volumes on the occult the school library had to offer. So much for inconspicuousness, but other people catching on to what you are up to is not a concern. For someone to think you are doing research on what kind of supernatural being has come to possess you, they'd first have to believe that you believe in that sort of thing. And no one would. So you're safe.  
I mean, you're very much not safe. You are the diametrical opposite of safe.  
Something strange is happening to you, and you don't really think you are going to come out unharmed at the end of it all if you just let it run its natural course. Intervention (if that's even a possibility) is crucial.  
You are past your days of denial and plunging right into studied assailment.  
Your legs now seem to have stopped shaking, so you get up. You remember you haven't flushed to toilet yet so you make for the handle, but there is nothing there anymore. Could you have flushed it away already and forgotten about it? You press your hand to your mouth to control the urge to laugh manically. Not giving in to your emotions will be the first thing you'll have to focus on, you decide. You'll hold on to your sanity no matter what tries to rip it away from you.  
You exit the bathroom stall. You are met with a couple of girls staring at you by the sink. You think you notice your expression drop to a look of dismay for just a second, and hope to God they haven't noticed it too.  
-If this is really the sort of "lifestyle" you are into now, - you can hear the quotation marks in her voice- you should really think about doing laxatives instead, Rose. Girls who throw up just get such bad breath! You know, friendly advice. Also, everyone could hear you from a mile away. Soooooooo gross. Like, have some consideration for the rest of us???????? We don't need to go through this just because you happen to have some personal problems!  
You walk straight to the sink to wash your face, without addressing her. Indulging her will only wind her up. And you aren't completely sure your voice isn't going to come out shaky.  
Vriska steps in closer and hands you something in an overly expansive gesture. Her hand is basically in your face, a phrase which describes her personality quite well.  
You don't know her brassiness is something she has picked up from being in the drama club or if it's just a manifestation of her obnoxious personality. With someone else you might have taken this as an exercise in psychoanalysis, but when it comes to why Vriska does the things she does, you happen to not give a shit.  
Rolling up and down her fingers, between the many rings from her pirate costume, is a packet of gum.  
-Take it, it's a gift! Your mouth probably stinks right now. - She attempts a gracious, warming smile. But you guess she isn't a gifted actress after all.  
-We must head back now if we don't want to be delayed - the other girl throws in in your defense. Kind of. Her tone is completely neutral. If she doesn't seem particularly disapproving of Vriska's behavior, she doesn't seem to encourage her either. Which you appreciate right now. You don't want a savior as much as you don't want another aggressor.  
You look at yourself in the mirror, and a wreck of a girl stares back at you. You don't mind being disheveled, but this isn't what strikes you. You look weak. You hate this. You suddenly feel a deep heartache, and you could just fall apart right here. But of course, you can't.  
You grab your things from the sink and begin to leave. Vriska walks by your side across the row of stalls.  
-Really, not gonna say a word to me? Rude! This isn't you, Rose.  
The other girl places a placating hand on her shoulder, and she stops following you. The touch looks very intimate. You wonder how close they are.  
The girl has really kind eyes, but that might be just the contrast to Vriska's.  
You get the hell out of that bathroom.


	3. Sollux

\-- twinArmageddons [TA] began pestering apocalypseArisen [AA] --

TA: when are you coming back?  
AA: it wont be long now  
TA: seriously?? did they say anything to you?  
AA: yes  
AA: but they arent good with dates  
TA: fuck that noise. this place is shit without you.  
AA: im sorry  
TA: FUCK. no, dont say youre sorry, shit.  
TA: its not your fault.  
AA: i know  
TA: you shouldnt be there, thats all.  
AA: i know that too

You get up from your chair and throw yourself on the bottom bunk of your bed. Your brother doesn't share a room with you anymore, but you kept the bunk bed to yourself. The top bunk is filled with gaming shit and computer parts. But then again, so is the bottom bunk. Your room is a hot mess. It doesn't help that you haven't let the place see some sunlight in months, but it would only make all the debris more noticeable anyway.  
It all still makes you PISSED, and your brewing migraine isn't helping at all. You wish you were sad, but you are just angry. And you do stupid shit when you are angry, which just pisses you off further.  
You are angry that they did that to her, and you are angry that they took her away from you and that you are alone now, and you are angry for being so fucking selfish. You are also angry that you are a fucking coward.  
How long was it, four months ago? That AA told her parents she could hear voices sometimes, and you would have told her not to do such a dementedly stupid thing, but she never told you she was going to do it. And now she is God knows where in a place she doesn't belong and it's only getting worse cause they do nothing for her. God, she spent Christmas there, for fuck's sake.  
You should have told people about your own shit so at least you'd be with her.  
You get up and turn off the lights cause they aren't doing you any favors. You walk back to your main laptop.

TA: im gonna fix this for us, ok?  
AA: you cant  
AA: this is not a fixable thing  
TA: fucking hell, aa.  
AA: i dont say this to hurt you  
TA: fine, but listen to me.  
TA: you have to tell them that the voices stopped, ok?  
AA: i dont wanna lie  
TA: just dont tell them that you can hear them.  
TA: dont tell them shit anymore.  
TA: not telling things to people.  
TA: you do that all the time anyway.  
AA: i can do that if you want me to  
TA: fucking golden.

You let out a groan. You throw yourself in bed again and press a pillow down your head. It's starting to reach the fucked up levels of bad. Soon you won't really be able to do much anything than just lay down somewhere agonizing and feeling sorry for yourself.  
One last trip to the computer, this time bringing the pillow back with you. The chat host is blinking with new messages.

AA: but it wont change anything  
AA: nothing i say can change things  
TA: what are you on about??  
AA: never mind  
AA: ill be home soon  
AA: i miss you sollux  
TA: i miss you too.

\-- twinArmageddons [TA] ceased pestering apocalypseArisen [AA] --

You don't even make it to bed this time. You just collapse in front of it, on your knees, with your head resting against the mattress and an empty box of Dishonored for the PS3 that was laying on top of it. Not that you could have possibly identified what that lump was pressing on your head, not with your eyes shut tight and a thousand strangers screaming in your ears.


	4. Rose

You get home, and the word that rings in your head is "finally". John is good company, great company even, but today was a long day for you. You wish you could have spent this afternoon with him on a day you were feeling, well, healthier, for a lack of a better word.  
You make your way to your bedroom and shut the door. Just being in this room brings you a senseless feeling of relief, like you just put all the odd and wicked behind you and everything is fine now. Which is, of course, untrue, as the pile of books in your hand cares to remind you.   
But you do feel better and that is not for naught, because at least like this you will be more capable to do your research.   
You catch a sight of yourself in your full length mirror and you look better too. Surprisingly better. Compared to the image you saw in the school's bathroom mirror, this is practically a new person all together.   
So much so that you feel momentarily eerie about it, but you are quick to wave it off. Too much is going on for you to be writing every odd occurrence down to mystical circumstance. Specially the nice things. You must allow yourself to just feel glad about nice things that happen to you.  
You plop yourself down your bed. There is also the issue of plain old paranoia. You might even have thought once that all of this was happening in your head, were it not for those few instances that left visible marks after the fact (which you are constantly checking to reassure yourself you are, in fact, not insane). But there is nothing to say these very real interactions with the unknown might not tamper with your sanity.  
You side-eye one of the books you brought back from school, now scattered around your bed. Hello there, buddy.   
You reach out to pick it up. You do hesitate, your hand hovering above the volume for a second, but you pretend not to notice it.  
You open it up to a random page. Nrub'yiglith. There is an illustration of the beast. You feel a peculiar fondness for him. The kind of feeling that would usually be prompted by running into one of your oldest friends. Nrub'yiglith. You proceed to read his description.

NRUB'YIGLITH, SHAMEBEAST KING OF GROTESQUERY, WRITHE-LORD OF THE MOIST BEYONDHOOD. Hearing his melodious chirps and tongue-clicks causes one's bones to explode.

Nrub'yiglith definitely lacks a certain finesse to his methods. You can forgive it in him, though. You are nothing if not considerate.  
You haven't properly gotten started on your research yet, so you don't feel it's too undisciplined of you to put the book down after such a short read. You'll start on more methodical work after you take a bath.  
Your bathroom is adjacent to your room. You leave the water running and walk back into the bedroom. Outside, you can hear the wind howling. You can also see it, as the tree branches outside your window move about with each draft. It's just starting to get dark. Somewhere inside the house, your sister blasts some vaguely electronic sounding music, though it might just be the soundtrack to some videogame.  
Decoration in your room mainly consists of the various books and articles of clothing you have scattered about the place, but you like it this way. You add a few more clothes to a pile as you undress.  
The bath feels nice and warm. Cleaning yourself is a secondary purpose in baths. Their main purpose is relaxation.   
You let yourself relax.  
You contemplate the fluidity of human emotion. Not an hour ago you were having one of the worst days of your life, and now that all seems endlessly distant. You think back to that girl in the restroom. Why are you thinking about her? You'd never seen her around Vriska before, and yet they seemed so close. The way she touched her shoulder was so natural. Not that you care. You don't care. You have so many other things to concern yourself with.  
Bite your tongue, Lalonde. Just like that, a mounting concern starts to take over you. You have the distinct impression your head is below the waterline. You open your eyes. You are completely submerged. How long have you been under? You don't remember sinking in, but it must have been minutes ago. You stay like this for a while longer, feeling an impossible mixture of calmness and panic.   
You try another question. Do you feel the need to breathe?  
You do now.  
You throw yourself upwards with a loud gasping sound, splashing water everywhere. Instinctively, you want to breathe loudly and heavily -- as one would, had they been holding their breath for a long time. But you find that you don't have to. Your breathing is completely normal already. You don't feel short of breath in the slightest.   
You finish the bath quickly and get out of the tub.  
The book you read previously is still open the same page on top of your bed. Nrub'yiglith, Writhe-Lord Of The Moist Beyondhood. You flip through some of the pages. All the creatures have a number of tentacles in them.   
You shut the book closed and take a look at its cover again. All black, with white lettering that reads "Grimoire for Summoning the Zoologically Dubious". What kind of school library has a volume like this available for consultation? You open the front page. Where the pocket with the library card should be, there is nothing. You open the last page of the book, just to make sure, and find nothing but a blank page there to greet you.   
You pick up another one of the books you brought with you from school today. A more harmless sounding title of "Esoteric And Occult Art". A skim through tells you this one is probably not gonna be of much help to you after all. But it does have a library card attached to it, with, sure enough, your signature on it. There is a single other name above yours, a Sollux Captor. You know a Sollux, from... somewhere? You think.  
You check the other ones. They all have library cards, and though some include other signatures than just yours and his, Sollux's name shows up in all of them.  
You resolve to investigate the matter further.  
You set yourself in front your laptop and start it up. After a short wait, your Pesterchum kindly informs you that a few friends have been trying to reach you while you've been offline. You scroll down your list of contacts looking for Sollux. You don't think you have him, though you can't place a name to every chumHandle in the list.   
turntechGodhead is already blinking expectantly, so you decide to reach out to him.

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] -- 

TG: hey  
TG: did you take my extra shades from my backpack today  
TG: you were the only one with means motive and opportunity lalonde  
TG: all evidence points to you  
TG: i expect a tearful apology  
TG: and a swift return of said shades  
TG: like motherfucking pronto  
TG: or i will press charges  
TG: the law is on my side  
TG: justice will prevail

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] --

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] --

TG: oh  
TG: never mind just found them

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] --

\-- tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] --

TT: I am overjoyed to know I've been cleared of all suspicion.  
TT: Though conflictingly crestfallen for not having been witness to what was surely a tearful reunion between a man and his shades.  
TG: shut up  
TT: I'm afraid this request will have to be put on hold for now.  
TT: I have a query of my own for you first.  
TG: oh sure yeah  
TG: whats up  
TT: Does the name Sollux Captor mean anything to you?  
TG: nope  
TT: Alright.  
TT: Thank you anyway.  
TG: no prob

No luck here. You click caligulasAquarium.

\-- tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering caligulasAquarium [CA] --

TT: Do you happen to know a boy by the improbable name of Sollux Captor?


	5. Eridan

Your brother's life is a mess and he managed to get to school today without his car, probably having gotten a ride from someone. You find out we wants to ride back with you at the last minute. You try to come up with any other sensible way for him to get back, but you've got nothing. So you are all but forced to let him in your car.  
He has the nerve to go for the driver's seat when you unlock the doors, but you forcefully shove him to the passenger's side and take a seat yourself. The old I-should-do-the-thing-cause-I'm-the-older-brother argument is thrown in, but you quickly shut it down with:  
-It's my fucking car.  
He rearranges himself into a sitting position as you take off, though he still doesn't seem to consider reaching for the safety belt. You're usually pretty stern about the way people ride in your car, but you'll take a mild infraction any day before asking Cronus to care for his own well-being. The guy is a lost case anyway. If he is still alive in 3 years it will be an statistical fluke.  
It doesn't take a minute for him to start messing with the radio. You reach out to switch back to your favorite station but don't manage to get it done while keeping your eyes on the road. He is still annoyingly switching the thing from song to talkshow to song to advertisement when you pull up to a stop sign.  
\- Just quit it, ok? Put it back to my station!  
\- It's there already, geez!  
You look away from him and towards the dashboard and see that it's true enough. You hadn't even noticed his hands were off the panel.   
\- Everything else was shit, and your guys put on Panic!, so.   
Your irritation doesn't dissolve straight away, but you shut up. You wonder why a pop punk band is suddenly worthy of his good graces.  
\- Brendon Urie is hot - he throws in.  
There it is. A mystery whose solving you did not care for, but it's damn solved anyhow.  
You glance over to your brother. He is looking out the window with a look of perfected indifference that you've come to identify as a sign he won't be bothering you again for the time being.  
You pull up to your driveway and turn off the engine. Cronus is quickly gone. You check to see if he left any of his shit behind him, but apparently he took it all. Not that there was much to take but his swimming bag. But sometimes you do find the odd hair comb laying around. Fair enough, a wet stain remains in the head rest, but your car has seen so much water damage that it doesn't phase you anymore.  
You get inside and make for the stairs. You walk past some boxes just by the door and wouldn't even have noticed them if your brother didn't mention them:  
-Dad found some of your old things in the attic. - He says, pointing behind you- I told him we might as well bin them straight up but he wanted you to take a look.  
You turn around and see the boxes. From where you're standing you can spot a pile of Harry Potter books and assorted wizardry paraphernalia. You don't even step in closer for a better look. You thought all of this was gone ages ago. Fucking yes, bin it all.  
\- No, throw it away - you say, in a harsher tone than expected.  
You catch your brothers eyes for just a flash when you say that. He looks vulnerable and scared in a way that completely throws you off. The look is sympathetic, maybe? In just a second, it's gone.  
He also got rid of all his magically-themed toys and books a few years ago, completely putting behind him any evidence of an interest on the subject. You wonder if you both did it for the same reason.  
You resume your way up the stairs and towards your room.  
This is not your bedroom, but it's where you spend most of your time. It's a big house, with loads of spare rooms. You made this one a type of studio for yourself. The books on the various shelves are the only thing in the place you make sure to keep organized at all times. Several of these are rare and fragile historical volumes, and you wouldn't want any damage to come to them.   
Your desktop, set up on the wall opposite to the door, has a senselessly large screen, and you can already see you left it on sleep mode instead of turning it off this morning. You're trying to make it a habit to shut off your computer when you stop using it, and it bothers you that you forgot to do it. It's not like power saving modes mean anything to you. But managing to discipline yourself is a particular concern of yours.  
You walk up to it and move your mouse. The screen lights up and asks for a password. You log in and see your Pesterchum already blinking. Probably Vris giving you shit about the costume fitting tests. It's not your fault the school play keeps setting up rehearsals and activities when you are supposed to be in swimming practice. Yup, there is Vriska, trying to get your attention.   
You keep trying to appease both Fef and the drama kids, but when your conciliatory energies are at a low, you'll invariably just end up in the pool. It's not even that you want to keep Fef happy, or that you care about excelling in the competitions (which you do, furiously, but just try getting you to admit to any o them). No. When it comes down to it, you'll always be biased towards the option that allows you to swim. You really like swimming.  
You are going to avoid arachnidsGrip for now.   
Looking outside, you estimate you have about one hour or so before it's completely dark. Through the window you have a view of the pool in your backyard. You decide to go for a quick swim before you shower.  
When you come back to your computer you beat yourself up for not having turned it off yet again. You shake the mouse. Another name has started flashing in your chumRoll. Oh, _now_ she wants to talk to you?

\-- tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering caligulasAquarium [CA] --

TT: Do you happen to know a boy by the improbable name of Sollux Captor?

Sollux? Fucking Sollux?

CA: yeah i know sol what of him  
TT: Could you share with me his chumhandle?  
CA: the fuck you want his chumhandle for  
CA: wow its official you are sick  
CA: this is a request straight out of a fever dream   
CA: why would anyone wanna talk to that guy  
TT: He is that objectionable of an acquaintance, then?  
CA: what you havent met him yet  
TT: I am unsure.  
TT: I believe I have but cannot recall it to any point of certainty.  
TT: But I am going to, if the facts are that I haven't already.  
TT: And so I need his chumhandle.  
TT: If you are going to be difficult with this please let me know at once, so that I can reach out to someone else.

You pause for a second and run your hand through your hair. You don't want these two talking for some reason. But you also have no excuse not to comply. You are not going to "be difficult".

CA: hey i was just asking some questions   
CA: its twinarmageddons  
CA: good luck with this douchebag  
CA: dont tell me i didnt warn you  
TT: Thank you. I won't.

\-- caligulasAquarium [CA] ceased pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] --

Enough of this, you want to talk to someone you actually like. You click another of the blinking names.

\-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] began pestering caligulasAquarium [CA] --

\- Message me when you get home.

\-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] ceased pestering caligulasAquarium [CA] --

\-- caligulasAquarium [CA] began pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG] --

CA: im home  
CG: JESUS FUCK WHY DO YOU ALWAYS GET BACK SO LATE.  
CG: FOR SOMEONE WHO HATES PEOPLE YOU HAVE THE BUSIEST SOCIAL LIFE.  
CA: yeah sorry  
CA: did something happen  
CG: I am in a retreat inside my room.  
CG: My brother is hosting bible studies at home.  
CG: There fuckers are all looking for heaven   
CG: and ironically I have found hell.  
CG: It's right here.  
CG: I'm typing this directly from the fiery lake of burning sulfur.  
CG: A little horned devil is poking my leg as we speak.  
CG: What's that, little buddy.  
CG: Oh.  
CG: It wants to know that it hates you.  
CA: i probably hate it too  
CA: tell him that  
CG: I can't.  
CG: It just fucked off.  
CG: This was too much for even him to bear.  
CA: that bad huh  
CG: God, Eridan, IT'S HORRIBLE.  
CA: you shouldnt take the lords name in vain kar  
CG: I AM GOING TO BURN DOWN EVERYTHING YOU OWN AND MAKE YOU CHOKE ON THE ASHES.  
CA: hahaha sorry  
CG: I think they are starting to go away now.  
CG: Apparently they can't stay out past dark   
CG: like prude annoying reverse vampires.  
CA: thats good  
CA: next time text me or something  
CA: i can pick you up  
CG: I CAN'T ALWAYS LEAVE AND GO FUCK AROUND SOMEWHERE, YOU KNOW?  
CG: I HAVE HOMEWORK TO DO  
CG: AND THE LITTLE SHIT TELLS ON ME EVERY TIME, TOO.  
CA: well yeah   
CA: but if you need help im here ok  
CG: I know.  
CG: Thanks.

Lalonde started blinking again. You are a bit hesitant, for a reason you still can't quite figure out.

\-- tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering caligulasAquarium [CA] --

TT: I wish to thank you for attempting to warn me about Captor. I see what you meant.

It would seem the girl has some sense after all.

CA: told you so

You feel an odd sense of relief about this new development. Eh, no use trying to make sense of your feelings on the matter. It was odd, sure. But it is over now.


End file.
